Eternity
by Serpent In Red
Summary: She tried to end the imprisonment that was imposed on her, until she learned that freedom came with a price. Rated T, just in case. TR-LV/HG.
1. Her Path

**Disclaimer**: Anything you recognize does not belong to me.

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**A/N**: This fic will not go into detail about how they've met and they've begun their relationship. The second chapter of this fic, "Imprisonment" was written first under the intention of letting it remain as a one-shot. However, inspiration striked and this turned into a fic with three parts.

Again, if you've seen something similar to this fic, tell me with the link to the fic and I'll delete this or change this asap.

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**Prompt**: 098. Wrong

**Summary**: Hermione had known a long time ago that she was walking down the wrong path. Nevertheless, it was the road she had chosen and she had no other choice. Her frustrations further increased when he finally decided to lock her up…

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**Her Path**

The night was silent around the mansion in Little Hangleton. It was especially quiet around the graveyard. None of the villagers dared to approach it since the many incidents that had happened there. One of the more famous ones was, of course, the death of the Riddles. However, the mysteries did not stop there.

Three years ago, a group of teenagers neglected the warnings written on the walls by people living in the village before them and entered the premises of the cemetery on Halloween night. It was the break of dawn before only one boy staggered out of it with blood covering his body.

For days, people asked him what had happened but he would not speak. Exactly one year later, he died on his bed and the secret was buried along with him.

After he had died, rumors started to spread. Some people claimed that the boy was the one who murdered the rest of his friends. However, the guilt soon overwhelmed him and he killed himself. Nevertheless, no one could explain just why the boy died. There were no apparent injuries on him nor any signs of being poisoned. In fact, doctors were called in to check on him by the boy's parents and the doctor left with a befuddled expression claiming that nothing was wrong with the young man.

So the rumors continue to spread, regardless of what the truth was. It really did not matter since the villagers always enjoyed a good story, as long as they were not told to investigate on the truthfulness of the story themselves.

Therefore, it was no wonder that on the night of Halloween, two years after the death of the boy, no one inspected the voices and bright lights that came from the direction of the mansion and the graveyard.

It started with a low murmur of "_Lumos_" at the edge of the hill that led to mansion. A figure clad in black made her way towards the mansion after she had lit her wand. Even before she entered the mansion, she could already hear the screams of a victim being tortured.

She closed her eyes and opened them again.

_What path had I chosen?_ She asked herself for the thousandth time. She knew she was walking down the wrong path. However, no matter what, she could not and would not leave him.

Two years ago, when she tried to block out the pleas from the innocent teenagers, she had already sealed her fate. Till this day, letting the group of teenagers die in the living room of the Riddle mansion still haunted her dreams. It was a guilt that would forever scar her mind, heart, and soul.

She knocked heavily on the door three times and waited for an answer. The curtain of the window to the left flickered and she saw an eye peeking out at her momentarily before it disappeared again. Seconds later, the door opened on its own and she was admitted into the mansion.

The person who had looked at her through the window bowed slightly to her as she made her way to the second floor.

She hesitated when she reached the door and wondered if the victim was still being tormented by him. She shook the thought away. He had always known of her discomfort with seeing people being harmed in front of her. Most likely, the prey would have been held in another room at this time.

She opened the door and found him leaning against the only table in the room.

"Where have you been?" he immediately asked as she sat down in one of the chairs in the room..

"I went to Diagon Alley," she admitted. "It's been a while since I've been there."

"Don't you know that Dumbledore could easily capture you and hold you as hostage against me?" he questioned, staring at her strictly. She looked at him for a while before sighing.

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that," she remarked softly.

"He's more manipulative than you know, Hermione," he commented as he walked over to the armchair behind the table and sat down.

Hermione Granger looked at the man she had followed for the past three years. Other people would believe that she was getting closer to Tom Riddle but it was the complete opposite. In fact, it seemed as if the wall between was becoming taller and thicker with each passing day.

"If you make such rash decisions in the future, I might have to reconsider the freedom I allow you," he suddenly declared. She immediately stood up from the chair and glared at him.

"You're not taking away my freedom!"

"You're forcing me to do so," he stated with equal amount of fury.

"I refuse to let you treat me like some sort of animal!" Hermione seethed.

"I'm trying to protect you, Hermione," Tom explained.

"Bullocks!" she snorted. "I could protect myself quite efficiently, thank you very much."

"You trust Dumbledore too much for your own good," he assessed. "I'm not going to let anything get in the way – "

"You're being selfish!" Hermione screamed at him. He stopped talking and looked at her. "You can't just lock me up like I'm your possession. I'm a human, I have feelings as well. If you've expected me to be some sort of woman who would stay home and take care of the children and the house, then you've chosen the wrong woman!"

"I've never meant for you to become a woman like that," Tom corrected her as he got up from the chair and walked towards her. "In fact, I'm glad that you're not one of those kinds of woman. Nevertheless, that's why I have to make sure of your safety."

Hermione felt the anger inside her increase. Apparently, he was already determined to lock her up in one way or another. He was just "kindly" informing her tonight.

"You're not locking me up," Hermione repeated. He did not answer but continued fixing his stare on her. "You know that I'll fight to the death if you dare try to lock me up."

"You leave me no choice then," he concluded, raising his wand at her. Before she could pull out her wand, he had already cast the Full Body Bind on her. Angry tears welled up in her eyes as he caught her in his arms before she fell to the floor. "My apologies, Hermione. I'm doing this for the both of us. I can't let them use you against me."

* * *

Hermione's suspicions that he had planned it out beforehand were proven true when Tom Apparated them to a place where she had never seen before. In the midst of the beautiful environment, there was a cabin, completed with a well and garden.

"You would have to excuse me for the primitiveness of this place. Nevertheless, I trust that your skills in magic are well enough to overcome these problems," he smiled at her as he carried her and walked over into the cabin. He placed her on the bed before he released her from the spell.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle!" she screeched as she stood up.

"I'm listening," he replied offhandedly.

"Argh!" she shrieked in frustration. She walked up to him and pulled him over by his robes. "You're not locking me up here. You're not!"

"My apologies again, Hermione," he repeated as he touched her softly on her cheeks. A sly smile appeared on his face. "If you could find a way pass the wards I've set up around this area, perhaps I'll reconsider my decision." With that, he kissed her gently on the forehead before he pulled himself away from her and Apparating away.

Hermione let out another scream of frustration as she sat down on the bed and crossed her arms across her chest.

This was so wrong at so many levels! How dare he lock her up like this? It was not as if she was some damsel in distress who needed someone to save her. She could ward off enemies quite proficiently herself.

The nerves of Tom Riddle! The chauvinistic pig!

Hermione whipped out her wand and blast the table into pieces, pretending it was Tom.

She then covered her face with her hands.

She then looked up at the spot where Tom had Apparated from before.

She would show him how wrong he was. She would find a way out of the wards if it was the last thing she did.


	2. Imprisonment

**Disclaimer**: Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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**Summary**: She was locked up by him for almost fifty years. Day by day, she wished that the wards around the little so-called paradise would go away. The price she had to pay for that to happen, however, proved to be a little too much for her.

**Prompt**: 068. Letters

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**Imprisonment**

She watched as the owl flew away after drinking a bit of water from the bowl she had placed beside the window. In her hand, she was holding a piece of parchment it had delivered to her three minutes ago.

It had been almost fifty years since she had been imprisoned in this place. Somehow, she believed that it was because he had found out somewhere along the line that she was different from other people.

She smiled resentfully at that assessment. Different. She was very different from a lot of people. Not because she was a Muggle-born or because she was more intelligent than most of the other wizards and witches out there.

Because she was a time-traveler. And she was a time-traveler who had fallen in love with one of the darkest wizards in history.

Hermione Granger looked down at the parchment in her hand. It was rolled up with a silver band around its middle. She ran her finger over the ring gently.

As much as she despised him for locking her away in this place, she could not stop herself from loving him.

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The cabin she was living in was located on the top of some mountain. The place was strangely beautiful and peaceful with a small stream on one side of the cottage. The only season she had seen while she was there was spring. Therefore, flowers bloomed throughout the whole year. It was almost like some sort of mythical place she had read about.

Hermione was mesmerized by the place but it did not stop her from cursing or worrying whenever she thought about the things that were happening outside of the wards he had conjured around the area.

The wards were not only to prevent other people from finding her. It also prevented her from ever stepping out of this little so-called paradise.

He always brought her books when he visited to keep her entertained while he was gone. It never took her too long to finish the books since they were immensely interesting and she also wanted to spend some time looking for ways out of the wards.

She had tried many ways to get out of her prison. Yet, she knew that as intelligent as she was, she did not know as much Dark magic as he did. She was pretty sure that that was what he had used to trap her here.

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She took off the ring from the parchment and walked over to a table in her room. She pulled open the topmost drawer. Inside were more rings similar to the one she had just received. She gently placed the ring in there with the rest of them. She then unrolled the letter.

_Hermione,_

_I trust that you are, as always, agitated, but I wish for you to share the triumph with me. Dumbledore had finally fallen by the hands of Severus a week prior. Young Malfoy was supposed to have done the job, as I had mentioned in my last letter, but from what I've heard from my Death Eaters, he had failed. Nevertheless, the old fool is finally gone._

_As delighted as I am, I'm regretful to say that I won't be able to meet with you this month. With Dumbledore gone, taking over the Ministry would not be hard. There is nothing left to stop me. When the world finally falls into my hands and Potter dead, I will bring you over to our new home. Then, we shall be together. I, once again, wish for your understanding. I do not want you in harm's way. If the Ministry or the Order knows about you, I have no doubt that they would find you a useful object to hinder me._

_I hope to meet with you next month but in current situations, I cannot guarantee it._

_Lord Voldemort_

She almost wanted to burn the letter right then and there. Understanding. How could he ask for her understanding when she was the one who was being trapped in the cabin? He had no idea how frustrated she was, knowing what would happen in the future.

She had never told him that she had come from the future. She did not want to change the future, as tempting as it was. Then again, she did not know if she could change the future even if she had told him the truth.

She was hoping to see him. If Dumbledore was dead, that meant that she had only one year left with him.

She closed her eyes sadly and bit the insides of her lips.

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True to his words, he had Apparated in two months after she had received the letter from him. She screamed and yelled at him to let her out, to be beside him. He, however, just looked at her with his crimson eyes, waiting for her to finish screaming before he pulled her into an embrace and captured her lips. As much as he had complained about her talking too much, he always respected her enough to let her finish her rants.

After that time, it had been nine months since she had seen him. She could hardly sleep during the nights as she thought about what was about to happen. She had long forgotten the exact date in which Harry would kill him – or rather, when the curse would rebound on him. After all, it had been fifty years. Therefore, her only relief was when she received his daily letters.

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One day, he Apparated in again. She pleaded him not to leave. He looked at her strangely since there was never a time when she had not screamed at him for trapping her in the little bubble.

She knew that the day was approaching soon. For once, she wished that all she had read was obsolete and that history could be changed.

However, the next day, she woke up alone in the bed. Tears fell from her eyes as she looked at the pile of books he had left on the table for her.

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The day the letters stopped, she did not cry. It was not the letters that informed her of his death. As she walked around the cabin, trying to find a way out again, she accidentally tripped and fell on the floor.

The wards were gone.

She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she ran into her cabin and slammed the door shut behind her. She climbed into the bed and willed herself to sleep. Once she woke up, the letter would arrive and the wards would be back where it was before.

As much as she tried, she could not fall asleep.

She wanted to lie to herself that it was because he had manipulated the wards so she could have more freedom before his supposed victory.

The denial could not be upheld any longer when an owl with his letter did not appear.

As tears fell from her eyes, she laughed bitterly at the irony.

At last, she was freed from the prison.

But now, she would give up anything to be locked back into that little bubble of mocked paradise.

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**A/N**: Again, if you've seen anything similar to this, tell me along with the link to the fic and I'll change this.


	3. Silence

**Disclaimer**: Things you recognize from the Potterverse does not belong to me.

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**A/N**: As usual, if you've anything similar to another fic, please tell me and I'll change it asap! Thanks in advance.

Inspired by Within Temptation's "Memories."

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**Prompt**: 021. Memory

**Summary**: His shadows still follow her after his death. Sequel to "Her Path" and "Imprisonment".

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**Silence**

The sun was slowly setting in the distance. The chirping of birds started to decrease as the skies darkened. Slowly, the light source changed from the sun to the light coming from the windows of the houses that were scattered throughout the town.

Save the giggles of children playing, the streets were quiet. Occasionally, a car would drive through the town.

A woman, clad in black, appeared at one of the corners and slowly walked down the street. A soft breeze rushed through the streets, brushing past her, and gently swayed her bushy hair. Her eyes were cast downwards as she walked down the road that led to the mansion on top of the hill.

The door of one of the houses creaked open and a man in his forties appeared at the steps. He glanced at the woman and a smile appeared on his face.

"Good evening, Mrs. Riddle," Mr. Smith greeted her.

She glanced at him, raising her head only slightly.

"Good evening, Mr. Smith."

Although a warm smile was plastered on her face, the sadness behind that façade could not be hidden. Mr. Smith always wondered why the woman seemed so melancholy.

One year ago, she moved into the mansion sitting on top of the hill. Whispers about the woman spread throughout the town, like the wind disrupting the dead leaves on the ground from their slumber. The house had been abandoned for many years. Everyone in town knew that the Riddles died in the mansion and there were no doubts in the villagers' minds that it was haunted.

The mysterious woman called herself Mrs. Riddle. This only added to the curiosity of the people living in the town. The previous owners of the Riddle mansion were never known to have other family members. Then again, they never knew too much about the Riddles anyway.

Nevertheless, she was seen every single day, walking through the streets, as if she was searching for something. The heartrending expression never left her face and the unshed tears always added a layer of mist in her eyes.

She was not particularly beautiful but there was a hidden kind of grace and knowledge in her. Most people would willingly give her their respect. There was something inside her that commanded it.

Nobody knew how old she was, but she hardly looked much older than Mr. Smith. She never reached out to become friends with people and she never had visitors.

All in all, she was a very strange lady and children had learned from their parents to stay away from her, no matter how nice she seemed.

They did not need to worry anyway. She never attempted to talk to anyone. Mr. Smith was the only person who actually tried to speak with her. Although she was polite, she never disclosed any information about herself.

And Mr. Smith could tell she had no intention to ever do so.

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Sometimes, she wondered if she was a masochist.

That thought would always bring a smile to her lips as she sat in the rocking chair on the third floor of the Riddle mansion. She would look out of the window overlooking the graveyard, stare at the sun until it set, and watch the moon rise.

What else could she be? Falling in love with a renowned sadist, she could not be anything but masochistic.

However, her acts of self-torture had reached a completely new level when she decided to move back to the Riddle mansion, two years after his death.

It was three years since he had died. Most of the Death Eaters were already thrown in Azkaban. Yet, once in a while, she would still see one or two of them walking around in the midst of normal wizards and witches. Apparently, the Ministry was having a hard time rounding up all of them. It was not unexpected since not many people had the privilege of knowing the identity of every single Death Eater.

They seemed surprised to see her, although they did not know that her astonishment was greater than theirs when they slightly bowed to her. She supposed that their allegiance to _him_ had not diminished.

Even though he was dead.

A frown appeared on her forehead and she closed her eyes. For a moment, she looked as if she was undergoing pain.

"_Hermione_."

A shiver ran through her as she remembered the way his silky voice would caress her name and the way he would gaze intently at her.

Most people feared him, but she never found a reason to be afraid of him. His expression always softened when he looked at her. It was not to say that he was not strict with her. No. Lord Voldemort always demanded complete respect and obedience.

Not that she was always submissive. There were many times when she would try to defy him.

A hint of a smile appeared on her face.

He always stared at her when she started to scream and yell at him. After that, he would simply do things the way he wanted, as if he had not heard a word she said. It frustrated and irritated her, but she knew better than to try to change him.

She opened her eyes when she felt something touch her hair. Her gaze fell on the slightly opened window and realized that it was merely the wind.

She reached out shakily and closed the window before she covered her face with her hand. When she uncovered her face a while later, she realized that there was moisture on her hand.

She did not notice that tears had fallen again.

When she fully acknowledged this fact, a surge of pain traveled from the pit of her stomach to her eyes and her sight blurred. She closed her eyes again, almost able to feel his arms encircling her now, as they had done so often in the past.

"_You're never leaving me, Hermione," he whispered in her ears the first time she gave herself to him. _

"_I'll eventually die one day," she replied softly. He chuckled. _

"_I am Lord Voldemort, dear. Do you think I will let something as petty as death stop what I __wish__ to do?" he questioned, his laughter laced throughout his words. _

She resented the fact that he broke his promise to her. He left her. He promised her that he would not let death stop him. Yet…he was dead.

Dead.

Gone.

Disappeared.

The only thing he left behind were the memories, which were the sources of her pain as well as her only solace.

"_It really is a pity. You are one of the most powerful witches I know, but you have so much of that," a smirk appeared on his lips, "Gryffindor honor and, __quote unquote__, 'goodness' that it will be impossible for you to help me towards my goal."_

A sarcastic smile appeared on her tearstained face. Had he ever realized that there was darkness in her as well? The days after she Apparated out of the paradise he had constructed for her, she hoped and prayed that he was not dead.

There were moments when she almost wished…that the outcome was reversed.

She knew it was wrong. Harry was her best friend. She would immediately scold herself for allowing that thought to cross her mind, but it was not something she could control.

The truest and greatest demons in a person's heart only appeared when they were in despair.

And she could not think of a moment she was more miserable than the years after his death.

The moments when people were celebrating his death, she was immersed in the utmost desolation and pain. She would curse the gods for allowing this to happen. She awfully wanted to curse the people for being happy about _his_ end, yet another part of her brain would remind her that they had good reasons for being joyful about the downfall of Lord Voldemort.

"_You're just sickeningly pure and good, Hermione," he said one day, a sarcastic smile gracing his features. "Sometimes, I still marvel at the fact that you're attracted to me." _

She opened her eyes, the memories momentarily filling her ears with phantom echoes of his laughter.

"Tom…Tom…" she whispered.

A bitter smile appeared on her face as she remembered how he would glare at her when she screeched out his given name in front of his Death Eaters. It was a look that would cause the bravest man to quiver. However, she could only ever see it as something endearing.

"_You honestly have to learn how to call me by my real name, instead of…that name," he complained one day, a look of disgust etched on his face. _

"_I'm sure you would prefer being called 'My Lord'," she __smirked__ in return. _

_"Hmm," he agreed, dark eyes glinting in amusement at the thought. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "But I know better than to expect you, my dear rebellious little lioness, to comply to my wishes__."_

_She leaned into his touch, a pleased smile on her lips._

"…I miss you, Tom," she murmured, her eyes blurring from the tears welling up in her eyes again.

She leaned back in the rocking chair and closed her eyes.

As darkness took over the skies, she continued to submerge herself in her memories, the cause of her never-ending pain.

And the only reason for her to continue her wretched life.


End file.
